Haying Time

At eighteen I moved into our small town and began life on my own. Being a college town, jobs were scarce. Just out of High School with no training outside of farmwork I was lucky to get two part time jobs. I worked the morning breakfast rush, washing dishes at a popular family resturant and picked up a couple days a week late night at a big motel. This barely paid for my food, gas and my room at a rooming house.

I began to understand my Dad's complaints about eating him out of house and home. At eighteen I was still hungry all of the time and meals were not included with my room. Since I couldn't cook in my room, meals had to be fast food, or non cooked things. Expensive, so I wasn't saving much money. My dreams of Art school were seemed far away. Then I fell back on odd jobs and farmwork to fill in the times between my jobs.

Farm jobs were the easiest to get. Any young able bodied men from farms were either working their butts off on the family farm or had skedaddled as fast and as far away as their money could take them. To the college boys, anything outside of town proper didn't seem to exist. In a small community word of mouth got me most jobs. Farmer C would mention to Farmer A that he needed some help with the planting or haying and Farmer A mention me and dig up my phone number for Farmer C, and I'd have another short time job for a couple of days. That's how I came to be haying for the Dante family.

I drove up on an already hot morning. As I got out of the car, eying a pair of barking colies, an older farmer came strolling out of a shed. My heart fell a little, because in these dry sexual days, I at least hoped the farmers would be young and halfway nice looking. Give me some scenery to look at. For an older guy, he wasn't so bad, just not the man of an eighteen year old's fantasies. We shook hands as he appraised me. I could tell what he was thinking. I'm tall and thin, and look like a stiff breeze might knock me over. To give you an idea of what I look like, picture Richie Cunningham from Happy Days, stretch him up to six foot, put a bent nose from a fist fight on his face, with dark brown eyes, and you pretty much see me. My hair progresses from dark red to strawberry blonde through the summer season, and at haying time it tends to be a bright brassy red.

I don't look like I would stand up to a full day of heavy farmwork, but I have strong wiry muscles.

Plus I work smart, I use my legs to do most heavy lifting, not just my arms and back. Farmer Dante, must have decided there was more to me then he could see, because he outlined the days plan.

He'd drive the tractor and baler, while his son and I stacked bales on the wagon. My lustful heart gladdened at the mention of the son. There might be some hot scenery after all.

About that time Carmine Dante sauntered out of the barn. Stocky, about five ten, well muscled,mid twenties and rough good looks. He had on the usual tractor hat, this one a green Deere, from under which short black curls esaped. Dark tan skin set off a pair of merry blue eyes, as small black mustache and heavy black beard stubble did the same for a bright white smile. His sleeveless, untucked, plaid shirt, open halfway down, showed off muscles arms and a chest with a dark vee of hair. His dirty wrangler jeans showed off sturdy legs, ending in the usual scuffed and dirty workboots. He didn't really show much basket, but looks can be decieving. When he turned to walk away I was treated to the way his Wranglers cupped and separated his bulky round butt, just under his shirt tail. God how I love Wrangler Jeans.

We hadn't been stacking long when Carmine pulled off his shirt. Yes! Skin tanned brown and shiny with sweat, showed off every fine curve. He had a small vee of black hair between his pecs that became a thin black trail disappearing into his jeans. Each big brown nipple was surrounded by a sparse ring of hair. He had the begginnings of a small paunch and love handles. The white edge of his underwear was a striking contratst to his dark skin. As he turned away I could see a small patch of black hair at the small of his back, leaving me to imagine those big round ass mounds to be covered in it. So I spent the rest of the morning, watching that nice body bend, stretch and flex before me. When you can't get it, watching it is almost as good.

At noon, there's another benefit to working on a farm. Farm wives know it takes a lot of fuel to keep a farmer going. A guy could usually count on a t least one good meal on a farm, and at eighteen I jumped at the chance. Another thing I've learned, most farm wives are flattered to see a man dig in. The more you eat, the happier they seem to be. It's a compliment. I could also see why Carmine's wife wasn't out helping. Looked to be near seven months along. Dante Senior's wife walked with a limp which explained why she wasn't out there too.

Then it was back to the field for another round of baling, stacking in the barn, and back again. All the while I watched Carmine out of the corner of my eye. He suggested I take off my football jersey at one point. Not a good idea. My fair skin can only take so much sun before it crisps. I never get darker than a golden brown or a painful red. So my shirt stays on except for small controlled exposures. Self-preservation.

The Dante farm was located in one of the prettiest places I'd seen in the area. It took up most of a long valley hemmed in by high hills covered in tall hardwoods. I made a note to come back through to see the trees in the fall and maybe even paint the farm. At the bottom of the valley , a swift clear trout stream burbled across rocks and clean sand.

Later that afternoon, when we were finished,Carmine suggested we take a dip in one of the pools to clear off. I told him I didn't have a suit, but readily agreed when he said no one could see this pool and we could go bareassed.

To see this stud naked would make for a nice handjob fantasy later, I wasn't going to pass it up. Dante Senior laughed and drove off. Said he'd rather take a shower.

Carmine led me down to a copse of willows, he was right you couldn't see anything of the road or farm from there. It was nice and cool and someone took pains to keep the grass cut. A battered picnic table rested under one of the willows. Carmine wasted no time shucking his boots, jeans and underwear. I dawdled a bit so I could watch him strip. His back was to me so I first saw his plump white ass pop into view. The little tuft of hair at his waist was a tease. Like the thin treasure trail on his belly he had one that dissappeared into his cleft. He had lots of black hair one his thick white legs though. I've always found it sexy the way most farm men are totally tan from the waist up and white from the waist down. He let out a whoop and plunged into the pool. I slowly stripped down as I watched him flip over to float on his back. A stubby dick poked out from a thick thatch of pube hair, while a fat pair of balls floated on the water. I jumped in, before my dick had a chance to get hard. That water seemed awful cold and did a good job off keeping my cock down.

We swam around awhile, then Carmine luched out of the water and lay down on the grass. He stretched, arching his back, making a very pretty picture against the green. I suddenly wished I had my sketch pad, and hoped that I could remember the scene in my head. Then I noticed something else. Carmine's pudgy little pecker was starting to stretch. Oh it wasn't a great stretch, maybe five inches, but it was nice to see. Carmine blushed under his tan, then shrugged. ' It hasn't seen action in a while, with Angie being pregnant and all. Guess he's glad to be out!' Suddenly he flipped over to bury his boner under him. My viewpoint up his spread legs to his white mounds suddnely gave me a boner of my own. I couldn't stay in the water forever, so I decided to brazen it out. Carmine's eyes opened wide as my fat seven inch, uncut hard on proceded me out of the water. I actually saw his tongue nip out to lick his lips. ' Wow, guess I'm not the only one not seeing action!' I shrugged, at eighteen spontaneous hard ons were status quo.

' That's quite a piece you've got there! I bet the chicks line up for it!' Carmine joked. I shrugged again. At eighteen I was in limbo sexwise. My fuck buddy had skedaddled to California after highschool, I didn't care about pussy, and willing dick was nonexistant. I wasn't old enough to be in the bars even if I had the money, so sex was me and my hand. But I let Carmine go on fantasing about all of the pussy I was surely getting because he'd rolled over and I could see his hand easing down by his stiffie. If he started stroking his dick, then he couldn't complain about me stroking mine. Watching this guy stroke would be the best sex I'd had in ages.

Sure enough his hand found his dick. he kind of looked at me, to see if I was offended. I smiled and reached down and gave mine a stroke. ' Just us guys, no one gonna see, if you wanta pull it, go ahead' Carmine smiled and watching me pull began working his own. After a while he scooted over next to me, I could feel his leg moving against mine slightly with each pump. Then to my shock and delight he pushed my hand out of the way and wrapped his calloused paw around my shaft and startd stroking it. I enjoyed the feeling for a bit, then pushed his hand away from his, and took it into my hand. Carmine thrashed and moaned. ' I haven't done this since Angie let me start fucking her! Used to jack off with a buddy down here regular like.

Angie being preggos and all I can't even get a hand job form her anymore. It feels so good to have someone else do it to me for a change!' I wasn't arguing, just enjoying the feel of his calloused hand pumping my dick. We fell silent, except for an occasioanl gasp or moan as our pumping hands brought each other closer to the edge. Carmine started bucking into my hand, his plump white ass raising and smacking down on the grass. I shifted my free hand under him to feel his ass slap onto it. What can I say, at even at eighteen I had a thing for man ass! Carmine didn't seem to notice and if he did he didn't care.

All to soon Carmine's whole body siffened, arched and his dick shot spurt after spurt of cum high in the air! It really had been awhile! My free hand grabbed an ass cheek and then I followed suit!

We lay there panting for awhile, then Carmine rolled away from me. I felt a sense of loss as my hand came free. He had a strange look on his face and opened his mouth to say something, hesitated, then gave me a sheepish smile. ' Thanks, Rusty, I needed that!' I shrugged, ' Looks like I needed it too!' He opened his mouth again, then closed it. Whatever was on his mind went unsaid.

We went back to the farmhouse where Angie asked me to stay for supper. Dante Senior was happy with my work and asked me back the next day. I looked to Carmine to see if it bothered him, he just nodded and said they could use the help. There was a glint in his eye as he walked me to my car. ' I like the way you help, Rusty.' There was a pause, ' No need to bring a suit tomorrow either!'

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Midwest farmboy relocated to city. I've had many jobs. Been a male stripper, bartender, deejay and mail carrier. While basically shy, I am extroverted on the stage or when I think no one knows me or will see me again. So had some intersting experiences and like to tell the tales. So I guess this is where I place the disclaimer. A couple of readers have questioned whether my stories are true. Well, no,. Although based on reality, I am taking creative license with most of them at this point, and in a few cases am writing pure fantasy. So, I know which ones are real , which ones are mostly real , which ones are mostly fantasy and which are purely out of my smutty little head, So, just sit back, ( And hopefully pull your joystick out) and enjoy them for the sex stories they are meant to be. Love Rusty